Day 63 of 365

When I was 15 years old I met an older boy. He was 18, I knew him from mutual friends, and he came off as a “nice” guy. We quickly rushed into a relationship, which is something I will regret for the rest of my life. The relationship quickly started becoming abusive. He was controlling, I couldn’t go out without him, couldn’t talk to anyone he didn’t approve of, and he always knew who and when I was talking to anyone because he had my Facebook and iMessage connected to his phone.

There was no privacy, and I was isolated. This man knew I was in a vulnerable state, I was young and dumb, my mother was in the hospital on life support, my father lived of the other end of the country, and I was struggling with abusing drugs and alcohol, and he entirely took advantage of me. It got worse fast. When we would fight, which was often, it was bad. He would yell and verbally and mentally abuse me, always making everything my fault and gas lighting me. Sometimes he would even threaten suicide if I left him. There was a time where we were driving in his car when he picked a fight, I was begging for him to take me home and crying, but he refused. When I wouldn’t stop crying or talk to him, he swerved off the road and almost crashed the car, like he was going to kill me. Other times he would take my phone so I couldn’t leave after a fight, sometimes pinning my down and pushing me to get it.

When we would consensually have sex, he refused to use condoms and would tell me he pulled out, but I knew he didn’t every time. He would take me out to parties with him and his friends and would push more and more alcohol on me, until I was blacking out and passing out. I would wake up sore, with no clothes on, knowing what he’d done. This happed on multiple occasions, one of them, I ended up getting pregnant. I thought because he was my boyfriend it was okay. I thought I was a bad girlfriend for feeling violated, so I never said anything.

We had only been together for two months when he got me pregnant. Part of me still feels like it was purposeful, he wanted me pregnant as a way to have more control over me. I knew I had to keep the baby, because I didn't have the heart to abort or have him adopted, and the first time I heard his little heart beat I fell in love. My son, who is now almost two, is the only good thing that came from that relationship. When I found out I was pregnant, he moved in with me. I felt trapped, and the sexual abuse got worse. I had terrible nausea and vomiting throughout the first and half of the second trimester of my pregnancy. I never felt good, and had no desire to have sex because I felt disgusting.

At that point I didn’t feel like my body was mine and the thought of sleeping with him made me feel sick. But when I said no, he would guilt trip me. He would tell me I’m a bad girlfriend, I make him feel bad about himself, and I should want to have sex with him because he “loves” me. He would continue making me feel terrible about saying no, or he would completely ignore me and be passive aggressive. I could never please him and it destroyed me mentally. I felt worthless. Eventually he started not taking no for an answer. He would keep pushing and become forceful. He would keep going even though I was saying no and was resisting, and just tell me to “shh” until I did because I knew I couldn’t over power him and I didn’t want him to hurt me or my baby. There were times I would have panic attacks and he would just tell me to calm down so he could finish.

One day, about 6 months later, I ended up telling my mom how I felt. I didn’t tell her everything but I told her how I was treated and she finally convinced me to leave him. He was at home while we were out, and I texted him and told him I was done and asked him to leave and go back to his moms by the end of the night. He started threatening suicide yet again, and told me he wouldn’t be alive by the time I got home. I ignored his attempts at quilting me and he just got angry and started blaming me for everything. When I got home he was finishing packing his things and ignored me until he finally left. I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders, but the next day I found out he was telling people I cheated, and my son wasn’t his.

This went on for the rest of my pregnancy and two months after he was born, until I got a paternity test. Him and his friends would harass me and sometimes even my mother and lie about me. He once even had a female friend punch me and try to fight me while I was pregnant. He didn’t care about my son, and still doesn’t. He acts like a good dad on social media and acts like I’m a bad mom and tell everyone I keep him from him, but he has supervised visitation rights, he just rarely schedules visits, maybe once a month. He still tries to mess with my head and pick fights. I recently had a girl come to me about him attempting to rape her while they were drunk, and I heard another story about him raping a young girl a couple years ago.

When I heard this, I no longer felt like I was crazy. It hit me that my feelings were valid and what happened was real, and that I was sexually abused. I finally opened up to my therapist about everything and she was mandated to report it to the police, and the case is currently under investigation. I’m scared, and I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m relieved. I have the other girl by my side and she also told the police about her experience with him.

He finally may get consequences for his actions, and he won’t be able to do this to anyone again. If anyone who is in a situation like mine, please leave, and please report it. I wish I did sooner, but I felt like it was my fault. Sexual assault is NEVER your fault.